


Where the Nettle Met the Rose

by andachippedcup



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/M, Flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 16:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup
Summary: Felicity frequents the graves of her grandparents, bringing flowers for them and the man buried beside them - Malcolm Merlyn. When she finds out about Merlyn's misdeeds, she's horrified and seeks to atone for having given him flowers by laying flowers at the graves of his victims - Robert and Oliver Queen.





	Where the Nettle Met the Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of the thread going around twitter, at the request of and as a gift for the ever so lovely Elley, who has been nothing but kind to me and so welcoming in ushering me into this fandom. Thank you for being such a sweet soul, Elley! <3

“So, apparently I’m making a name for myself in the IT Department at work. You remember that fix that I told you about last visit, that I did for Mr. Miller over in Applied Sciences? Well, he must have said something to the powers that be, because Mister Steele – aka The C E freaking O of Queen Consolidated – apparently requested me for a project! How cool is that?”

Felicity heaved a little sigh and then pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose, keenly aware that she probably looked absolutely bonkers, sitting here talking to the shared gravestone for her maternal grandparents. But she’d made a habit of coming out here at least every other week or so for years. She was used to the occasional odd look from the other people in the graveyard and at this point the groundskeepers all knew her and paid her no heed.

Chancing a glance at her watch, Felicity began to stir, sharing a last, fond glance at the familiar, worn stone as she pressed her fingers to her lips and then pressed her fingers to the stone to transfer her kiss to the loved ones below. It had become her ritual to do so each time she visited and it was practically second nature for her at this point.

“I love you Bubbe, love you Zaydee.”

Setting the small bouquet of lilacs down before her grandparents, Felicity rose and shouldered her bag before stepping to the grave next door. For the last couple years, she’d been laying flowers at this stone too. Neighboring her grandparents, ‘Malcolm Merlyn’ had never, not once in all the years she’d been visiting, gotten a single flower at his grave. What with her rather regular visits, the Smoaks’ gravestone was always a colorful splash of flowers and love. But Merlyn? Merlyn’s grave was perpetually empty. Though the groundskeepers ensured the grass was never overgrown, there was nothing they could do to help the sad, abandoned air about Malcolm Merlyn’s final resting place.

Felicity had, therefore, taken it upon herself to start bringing him flowers too. And so, for the last couple of years she’d brought a bouquet for her Bubbe and Zaydee, and one for Merlyn. Laying the second bouquet before his headstone, Felicity smiled down at the stone with familiarity.

“Hey Mister Merlyn. Just me, Felicity. Again. Hope you like lilacs. They seemed cheerful to me so I picked them up for you too. Anyway, I gotta run but I was thinking… Now that I’ve got this whole IT job going for me, I should look you up! See if maybe there’s somebody out there who might be missing you and might come visit with flowers. Besides just me. I’ll let you know what I find, okay? See ya next time!” She babbled quickly, waving casually at the headstone as she departed.

Two years she’d been laying flowers for him at his grave and she’d only recently thought to look up Mister Merlyn. Maybe he had a family out there who _wanted_ to come visit him, but didn’t have the means! She could offer them a ride, or some cab money. Or maybe he had an estranged family member who she could help to bury the hatchet and come visit his grave!

There were endless possibilities in her head, but really, Felicity couldn’t see the harm in looking Malcolm Merlyn up. Malcolm Merlyn was a mystery that needed solving and Felicity Smoak was just the person for the job. What was the worst that could happen?

\-----

The next time Felicity showed up to visit her grandparents, her step was lacking its usual bounce and she wore a sheepish expression. In her hands, she carried not her customary two bouquets, but one, solitary bouquet of peonies. As she stole across the lush green grass towards the familiar headstone, she seemed ill at ease and not at all her usual, relaxed and cheery self.

“Okay so here’s the thing… I did a thing. And in fairness, I probably should have done this a lot sooner. Like… two years ago. But I didn’t. I did it now. And so now I know that your next door neighbor, _you know who_?” Felicity muttered, tilting her head to the side, indicating Malcolm Merlyn’s headstone just beyond. “Yeah. He’s basically a murderer.” Felicity stage whispered to her grandparents’ headstone, casting a suspicious glance Merlyn’s direction.

“The guy who founded Queen Consolidated? Robert Queen? He and his son were killed in a shipwreck that _Voldemort_ over there organized. You are _literally_ buried next door to a real life evil villain.” Felicity growled as she tried and failed to settle herself on the grass.

She couldn’t settle. It was profoundly _unsettling_ to know that there was a murderer lurking next to her grandmother and grandfather. Sure, all three parties were _deceased_ but… Well, it just wasn’t exactly her idea of a perfect resting place for her loved ones.

“I gave a murderer _flowers_!” Felicity hissed as she smacked her hands against the grassy ground below her. “And not just one or two bouquets but _dozens_ of them! That’s got to be some seriously bad karma.” She remarked, shivering as a chill raced up her spine at the mere thought. “How do you undo two years worth of bad karma like that?!” She thought aloud the question she’d been asking herself for the last couple weeks since she’d made her discovery about Malcolm Merlyn’s sordid history.

She couldn’t apologize to his victims – Robert and Oliver Queen were both dead, thanks to Merlyn’s machinations. And they weren’t buried in your run of the mill graveyard like Merlyn here. Oh no, they were buried on the private grounds of the Queen family estate. Not exactly an easy place for a peasant like her to get to.

Then again…

She needed to clear her conscience – that much was clear to her. Her options were that she could try to sneak onto the Queen estate to lay some flowers on a couple of graves, or she could try to get a meeting with the surviving Queens, Moira and Thea, to explain herself. If those were her only options, then Felicity knew what her preference was.

She babbled when she was nervous. This story would be difficult enough to explain without her babbling. With it? She’d probably be so incoherent that if she tried to explain herself, Moira Queen would likely use her stake as majority shareholder in Queen Consolidated to have Felicity dismissed on the grounds of being a crazy person. And Thea Queen was still a teenager and hardly the appropriate person to approach and relay this whole mess of a story to. So that left Felicity with the less than legal option for atoning for her unintentional sins.

“What’s a little trespassing in the name of making amends, hmm?” She spoke aloud, glancing down to the Smoak headstone again. “Don’t tell Mom, okay? I love you guys. I’ll let you know how it goes next time I visit! Unless I get caught and thrown in jail… In which case my next visit might be a ways off… Huh.” With a shake of her head, Felicity scampered off, careful not to so much as even _look_ at the gravesite of Malcolm Merlyn as she left.

\-----

The Queen estate was big. Like… _’should have its own zipcode’_ huge.

That being the case, she’d tried to use satellite images (yes, she’d hacked a satellite for this) to determine where Robert and Oliver’s graves were on the grounds. But even with her recon work, she’d gotten lost half a dozen times trying to sneak her way around. Which really did not bode well for her goal of not getting caught. Thankfully, she’d thought to bring her tablet and had done a little, teeny, _tiny_ bit of hacking into the Queen Estate’s surveillance system to ensure that security wasn’t alerted to her presence.

Accidentally laying flowers on the grave of a murderer was one thing. _Knowingly_ trespassing on private property was another. And as difficult as it was trying to explain the flower thing, Felicity knew that trying to explain the trespassing _and_ the flower thing would be way, way more difficult and she’d really, _really_ rather not have to look into the faces of the surviving Queens (or their presumably burly security staff) to explain herself.

Mercifully, after much searching, she finally stepped into view of the commanding pair of headstones and promptly made her way towards them. Kneeling first before Robert’s, Felicity laid the bouquet of hydrangeas before the stone, her heart beating heavily as she read the inscription on Robert Queen’s headstone.

“ _A leader, a husband, a father, and a pillar of our great city_.” She read the words in a hushed voice, her eyes skimming across the dates that simply and succinctly bookended this man’s life.

“Well, I never got a chance to meet you but it seems like your company is doing a lot of good for this city. That’s a pretty cool legacy, I think. So thank you. I really enjoy working for your company. And I have some big dreams of how it can help Starling City even more.”

Fidgeting for a moment before the headstone, Felicity couldn’t help the sense of guilt flooding her at the knowledge that she’d spent _years_ honoring the man responsible for this man’s death. Even though it had been unintentional, she still felt like a giant jerk for it.

“And I just want you to know… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what Malcolm Merlyn did to you and to Oliver and I’m sorry that I laid flowers at his grave. If it helps, I didn’t know who Merlyn was at the time. I will definitely be more careful about who I give bouquets to from now on.” She cringed, stepping away from Robert’s grave as she tried to compose herself. She just needed to say her piece, even if it came out a babbled, rambling mess, and then she could go. She just needed to alleviate the sense of guilt she had over this whole flower business. There was no one here to overhear her, so her sense of self consciousness about all this was ridiculous. Squaring her shoulders, she resumed her focus on Robert Queen’s grave.

“So, according to the florist, hydrangeas can symbolize ‘gratitude for being understood’. And given our rather inauspicious introduction, I thought that was appropriate. I really appreciate you guys not like… y’know… haunting me because I accidentally gave your murderer flowers. I feel that I should emphasize just how much I seriously appreciate you guys not holding that against me. I owe you one. So, if you ever need any IT help once I cross over, look me up.” She commented with a lopsided, lighthearted smile before she moved from Robert Queen to his son.

Oliver’s headstone was much the same as his father’s – imposing and expensive looking, but similarly devoid of any flowers or other sentimental touches to indicate it had been visited recently. How sad to be memorialized on your family’s land, only for them to steer clear of the place, Felicity thought with sadness.

“Hi there, Oliver. My name’s Felicity. I guess I should have mentioned that to your dad. That was rude of me.” She babbled uneasily as she stood before the stone, unsure where to go from here. “In my defense, he would have been my boss if he were still alive, so a little nervousness is allowed, right?” She sighed, trying not to get anymore flustered than she already was.

“Oh my gosh I’m losing it. I’m talking out loud to the gravestone of someone I didn’t even know… And I’m still doing it.” She shook her head and sighed before staring up at the sky. “I am completely crazy, aren’t I?”

Turning her gaze back to the headstone, her eyes moved over the finely chiseled letters once again and she felt a twist in her gut as her eyes ran over the dates etched in stone. He’d only been twenty two years old when he’d died – a year younger than she was now. That thought alone made her skin prickle into goosebumps.

“You would have been twenty seven now.” She mused, staring hard at the stone as she knelt before it, reaching a hand out to run across the inscription.

“ _A loving son and brother, whose light was dimmed far too soon_.” She read aloud, her voice catching ever so slightly. Why was she getting emotional over the inscription on a stranger’s headstone? This was new levels of ridiculous, even for her.

Still. She couldn’t help but imagine how painful it must be to have lost someone so loved so prematurely. Someone that should have had more time with their loved ones. Felicity didn’t know the Queen family, but she could certainly get a sense of how much they had loved their patriarch and heir based on the headstones before her.

“Sounds like you were really something. I’m kind of sorry I didn’t get to meet you.” She took a steadying breath, her left hand still touching the cold stone before her as her right hand brought forward the bouquet of gardenias she’d brought to make amends. Clutching them before her like an amulet, she tried to explain herself.

“So this doesn’t really make up for anything but… Consider it a small gesture on behalf of an apologetic IT girl.” She babbled, unable to place precisely _why_ she felt nervous talking to the headstone of a guy that had been dead for five years.

“I’ll have you know that I spent an _excruciatingly_ long time trying to pick out your flowers, mister.” She began, smiling as she reached a hand out to caress the smooth headstone familiarly. “You might be surprised to learn that flowers are typically a very romantic gesture, so finding a flower without a super romantic symbolism was not exactly easy. But I settled on these. They’re gardenias. Which I am told symbolize ‘sweetness’ and ‘joy’. And if you are the receiver of gardenias it sends the message that ‘you are lovely’.” Here, Felicity smiled and couldn’t help the slight blush that rose in her cheeks at this.

“So, there you have it, Oliver Queen. I, Felicity Smoak, hereby decree that ‘you are lovely’.”

She rocked back on her heels and gently deposited the bouquet of flowers before Oliver Queen’s headstone, feeling a dull ache at the thought of the young man and his father whose lives had been cut horribly short by Malcolm Merlyn’s evil deeds.

“Well that’s the first time I think anyone’s ever called me ‘lovely’.”

Her heart nearly galloped right out of her chest as the sound of an unfamiliar, deep, masculine voice punctuated the stillness and had her whirling around to face the owner of it.

She found herself face to face with an older, slightly more worn version of the face that she had found upon Googling Malcolm Merlyn’s victims. But how on _Earth_ was Oliver Jonas Queen standing in front of her when she was supposedly standing at his gravesite?!

“You alright - Felicity, was it?” He asked as she gawped at him silently, unable to form words as he grinned at her and moved closer and _good gravy_ , he was attractive. More attractive now than he’d been in the photos she’d found of him online. And way more muscular – he was _ripped_. And- no, this wasn’t happening. Ghosts were funny to joke about but they weren’t real. _(Were they?)_ She had to be hallucinating. She was fantasizing about a dead guy. How sad was this?

“I am hallucinating. Yep. That’s what’s happening. Because you, Mister Queen, are very much dead.” She rambled nervously, running a hand through her hair as she took a steadying breath.

“No, Mister Queen was my father.” The hallucination Oliver Queen cut in, studying her intently.

“Right but he’s dead. I mean he drowned. You both drowned. And are dead. And apparently you _did_ decide to haunt me. Or are you a hallucination? I’m not sure what’s worse – ghost or hallucination. _Frak_.”

This was insane. She was literally, _certifiably_ insane.

“Okay so here’s the deal. I really had no idea he was a murderer, okay? I was just going about my business and I kept leaving flowers on my grandparents’ grave and week after week and month after month, their headstone is bedecked like they’re the graveyard rockstars. And meanwhile the guy next to them never gets so much as a single flower. Everyone else around my grandparents at least periodically gets _something_. But Malcolm Merlyn? Nada. Zip. Zero. And I feel bad, right? Because I’m spending a small fortune on flowers and this poor guy doesn’t even have one. So I start putting flowers on his grave as like, a kind gesture. But then a couple years go by and I get the bright idea that I should look him up! And I did. And that’s when I learned that my grandparents are buried next door to an seriously bad dude, like evil movie villain level bad, and that I’d been leaving flowers at the grave of a monster. So I stopped immediately, _obviously_. I had no idea who he was or I would never have left him so much as a petal, let alone like….  _Dozens_ of bouquets.”

She sucked in a deep breath, her heart still racing as the hallucination (or ghost? She wasn’t sure where she’d landed on that) Oliver studied her with wide eyes but continued to stay silent.

“So that’s when I researched his victims – I mean you. You and your dad, that is. And I found out you were buried here and I sort of snuck in here to leave you flowers as a way of making amends for accidentally laying flowers at the grave of your murderer. So really, when you think about it, it’s a totally understandable mistake to make. And completely unintentional. _And_ I tried to make amends by leaving _you_ flowers. So haunting me is thoroughly uncalled for.”

She argued, growing bold and taking a few, defiant steps closer to the ghost of Oliver.

“O- _kay_.” Oliver responded, looking at her with an expression equal parts befuddlement and amusement. “That’s a lot to unpack. But let’s start with the fact that I am not a ghost or a hallucination.”

Glancing at him warily, she narrowed her eyes.

“What?”

 “What I’m saying is, tomorrow’s headline will probably be something pertaining to the fact that Oliver Queen has been found alive after spending five years shipwrecked, and has been returned to Starling City.”

There was a long beat of silence as Felicity tried to process what he’d said and then, in a very small, _very_ self conscious voice, she spoke.

“So what you’re saying is… I’m not hallucinating you right now?”

“No. You’re not.

“And you… You aren’t dead and haunting me?”

“Also no. Which is why I could come down to my grave, where my mother and sister have been very annoyed by the presence of a young woman that they have assumed to be an old tryst of mine, trespassing onto our property. So, I came down to investigate rather than have them send security after you.”

“They know I’m here?!” Felicity stage whispered, suddenly on edge as she pushed her glasses up on her face and side stepped so that his body blocked hers from the view of anyone who might be watching from the mansion.

“Sneaking onto private property that’s got 24 hour security is hardly the pinnacle of stealth.” Oliver commented with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and Felicity’s brows knitted momentarily together.

“I thought I took out the security cameras though.” She muttered, thinking out loud.

“What?”

“I was just trying to do a nice thing by leaving you flowers!” Felicity quickly tried to change the subject, not keen on explaining that she’d not only physically trespassed, but digitally as well.

“You were trying to make up for leaving flowers on my would-be murderer’s grave!” Oliver shot back in amusement and she huffed irritably in response.

“ _Accidentally_. It wasn’t like I did it on purpose.”

“Mhmm.” Oliver responded, still watching her with great interest and a laughing smile.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop grinning at me like that! I know, I sound like a complete bozo and a total loon but I don’t need you laughing at me to my face. At least wait until I’m gone and laugh about me behind my back like a civilized person.”

He schooled his expression instantly, though his eyes were still dancing as he continued studying her.

“Felicity,” he began and she stared at him, wide eyed.

“How do you know my name?”

“I overheard you saying you, Felicity Smoak, decree that I’m lovely, remember?”

Her cheeks were on fire but she tried to remain stoic and indifferent as she gave a slight dip of her head, her lips pressed together sternly.

“Yes, I recall now.”

Chuckling again he continued to watch her with those damnably blue eyes of his and it was all she could do to focus on the situation and not his stupidly pretty face.

“Would you like to get a drink with me, Felicity?”

“Why?” It was a kneejerk response and she couldn’t help the skeptical tone in her voice as she rebuffed his question, totally taken off guard by this sudden change of conversational direction.

“Honestly? …You’re the first person since I came back who has made me smile. My family keeps expecting the old me and it’s a little hard to keep disappointing them when I’m not that Oliver anymore.” There was a moment of silence as he seemed to collect himself and shook off some of the somberness that had fallen over him. “Not to mention, you also kind of already hit on me, so I’m hoping that means you’re interested. Or does a guy have to be dead to pique your interest?” Oliver queried with a gentle, teasing tone, but his words drew Felicity up short.

“I most certainly did _not_ hit on you!” She gasped and he chuckled as he bent to collect the bouquet of flowers she had laid at his headstone, holding them up for her to survey.

“Gardenias, right?” He questioned and when she nodded he continued. “Well, they have another meaning. ‘Secret love’.” He added with a grin as her jaw dropped open in surprise.

“I didn’t know that! That was definitely _not_ the message I was trying to send.” She stammered nervously and Oliver shot her a demure look.

“Tell you what. Go out for a drink with me and after drinks, if you don’t love me even just a _little_ , then you can keep the gardenias. But if you love me even just the tiniest bit, I get to keep them.”

Felicity was silent as she contemplated his offer, turning it over and over in her mind as she thought of all the many, _many_ ways that this could backfire.

“I do this and you personally guarantee that your dad doesn’t haunt me. Agreed?”

“On my honor.” Oliver held his hand aloft and swore, his eyes still glittering as he continued to watch her intently. “Anything else?”

“My drink for the evening gets to be a glass of my choice of wine.”

“Whatever the lady wants, she gets.” Oliver nodded in agreement. “So, what do you say?

She pressed her lips together, her definite interest in him fighting against her better judgment.

“I say… yes. Yes I will have a drink with you. One-” she held a finger aloft for emphasis, “-drink and then my gardenias and I will be on our way.” She teased him and in response he beamed.

“We’ll see about that.”  

And that was how Felicity Smoak wound up giving Oliver Queen a bouquet of gardenias the first night they met. To return the favor, Oliver gave her a bouquet of gardenias three years later, on the night he asked her to marry him.

She said yes to him that night too.


End file.
